


Eyes Full of Love

by Trams



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 03:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17216315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trams/pseuds/Trams
Summary: End of the year collection of really short ficlets posted elsewhere and now gathered here for archiving purposes





	1. Chapter 1

Goody didn’t usually fall asleep in saloons, after all the noise level usually prevented something like that. However three nights of hardly any sleep, and copious of amount of alcohol could apparently beat the bustle and rowdiness of the room.

He came back to wakefullness slowly, conscious before he even opened his eyes. His arms crossed on the table infront of him and his head resting on them. The room was a lot quieter than when they came in, and while he couldn’t say how long he had been asleep he could guess that it was rather late and they should be on their way to their room and bed. He wondered why Billy hadn’t woken him.

Goody opened one eye a fraction and looked straight up at Billy and saw him looking at him. Brown warm eyes watching Goody, gaze full of fondness and affection. People had taken Goody aside on more than one occasion, and sometimes not bothered to tell him out of earshot, that they couldn’t read his companion at all; saying that he was completely emotionless. Goody could never understand them. 

Maybe it could have been explained by the amount of time they had spent together; but Goody felt like he had been able to understand Billy from the moment they met. It was all in Billy’s eyes. Billy’s beautiful lovely eyes. They were the most expressive eyes Goody had ever seen, and in them Goody could see Billy’s joy, his anger, his hurt. He had seen him hold back tears. Had seen the way they shone with happiness; glitter with laughter. And most of all, he saw the way Billy looked at him, and him alone.

Billy watched him and Goody felt safe. Safe and warm Billy’s gaze was a warm blanket draped over his soul.

He had lost count of all the times he had glanced over catching Billy looking at him, it was as if whenever there was a moment to spare Billy’s eyes lingered on Goody.

It brought him comfort, reassuring with its steady unwavering presence.

He was a man haunted by the dead eyes of the people killed by his hands. Whenever he sighted down the barrel, all he saw were the pale faces, with the sunken in eyes that held no life in them.

His own wounds were on the inside, gaping bleeding wounds sapping him of strenght, and filling him with an icy cold. Billy’s gaze was a soothing balm, a warm furnace for him to sit next to and bask in its warmth.

Goody opened both of his eyes and looked at Billy, feeling himself smiling a little he asked, “why didn’t you wake me?”

“I was going to, but…” Billy ducked his head. “I got distracted.” He mumbled.

Goody’s smile widened and he flushed slightly. Billy lifted his head again, his eyes once again falling on Goody’s form, and Goody’s chest swelled. Billy had been watching him, had watched him sleep and it had been enough to distract him.

Billy looked at Goody with love written so clearly in his eyes that Goody couldn’t understand how it wasn’t obvious to everyone around them. Especially since Goody could never lay his eyes on Billy and not have his face be an open book for everyone to see.

_‘I love him’ was all he could think of every time he looked at him, ‘and I can’t believe I am so lucky to be loved by him in return.’_


	2. Chapter 2

The sheets were rumpled, stained and damp from sweat. The room warm and lit up from the many many candles, some burnt out, they had been at it for hours. Both of them panting and trembling as they let themselves fall down on the messy sheets. Billy closed his eyes, sighing contently lying on his front, head pillowed on his arms. Next to him Goody was leaning over him, pressing kisses to sweat sheened, the last unmarked skin.

“I can’t,” Billy murmured, with a small smile. “I need a break, before we go again.”

“Hm..” Goody murmured against his skin.

It would be the last time either of them could sleep in a bed, but sleep was nowhere near their minds, as there was a far more important last.

“I wish,” Goody started to say. Pressing kisses down Billy’s spine, sending tingles to his stomach. He got to the small of Billy’s back, and spoke again in a quiet voice, “I wish you wouldn’t go.”

“Stop,” Billy said, twisting onto his side, watching Goody sit up and look down at him. Beautiful brown eyes glowing in the candlelight, meeting striking blue eyes. “We said we would ignore all that tonight.”

“I know, but,” Goody started and stopped as Billy sat up and cupped Goody’s cheek in his hand. Brown eyes meeting blue.

“Stop.”

Goody closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“It’s only the two of us tonight.”

“Only us,” Goody whispered.

Billy pushed him down on the bed, pressing butterfly kisses across his chest, whispering promises into skin with every kiss.

And in the grey light of dawn, punch drunk with too little sleep and too much love. Dressed and ready to leave Goody pulled him in close kissing him hard and blinking back tears.

“Billy,” Goody whispered, hands cupping Billy’s face he leaned back and looked into Billy’s eyes. Goody swallowed. “I… I will miss you.”

“And I you.” Billy put a hand on the back of Goody’s neck, closing his eyes he leaned his forehead against Goody’s prolonging the touch, the last touch, for as long as possible.

“I will see you when the war is over,” Billy said.

_“When it is over...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what war they are marching off to to be honest.
> 
> I never wrote more of this because at the time when I wrote it I wasn't picturing a very happy ending to it and I didin't want to write that, still don't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for the prompts huddling for warmth and massage. It was written at the same time as two other ficlets which I did post here, and this one didn't get posted here for a reason (I don't like it). But I guess I should save it after all.

It was pouring down rain, late in the evening; Goody was surprised the farmer had even come out to talk to them, and not just fired his rifle to chase them away; the rifle which he had been holding in a hand that twitched nervously when Goody flinched because of a flash of lightning and a particular loud crack of thunder. The farmer hadn’t been interested in letting them pay for a room in the main house, but had agreed to let them pay for the dubious privilege of sleeping in the old empty barn. Couldn’t let them sleep in the newly raised barn, what if they turned out to be horse thieves, which was a ridiculous notion but neither Goody nor Billy said anything.

Goody walked through the doors behind Billy and then just stopped as his legs refused to move one inch further, he was tired exhausted to the bone. His frozen hands unable to clasp the reins much longer as the leather slipped from his grip and his horse followed Billy’s deeper into the barn. Goody shivered, wet and cold, so cold.

The cold reminded him of the war, of mud and misery and a cold that seeped in through his flesh settling in his heart. The rumbling of the cannons in the air, and loud cracks of rifle fire; the smell of burnt gunpowder thick in his nose. A sudden loud boom all around him, and a bright flash had him gasping for breath that got caught in his throat, and heart stopping. He gasped again and fell to his knees.

Distantly through the fog in his mind and the panic in his chest he heard his name shouted, and then there were warm calloused fingers touching his wet cold cheeks. Pinpricks of warmth seeping through his skin. His vision swimming but he could make out a dark shape kneeling in front of him.

“Goody,” a low calm voice said.

“Billy,” Goody croaked out. Grasping desperately for him. Hands finding arms and a sopping wet shirt he could grasp in a tight grip with both hands.

“My heart,” Goody gasped. “Its stopped.”

A strong hand pressed against his chest, the other cupping his cheek.

“It’s beating strong as ever,” Billy said, voice reassuring, and Goody clung to that voice, that familiar voice that brought him back to the present and when he blinked the fog disappeared and he was looking at the features of his rock, his anchor in the present.

“It used to be,” Goody mumbled. It had been stronger, his heart. Now it was a soft and weak. A strong hand gripped his chin and tilted it up so he was looking into Billy’s eyes again.

“Don’t,” he said. Goody closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath before nodding.

“You need to get out of these clothes and into something dry,” Billy said. “And I need to take care of the horses.” He helped Goody to stand again, and gratitude and shame warring inside of Goody. “You will be okay for a bit right?” Billy asked and Goody closed his eyes turning away. A hand gripped his shoulder.

“Yeobo,” Billy murmured and Goody had to turn to him again. The foreign term of endearment still strange and rare enough to jolt Goody. There was no judgement in Billy’s eyes, only that fierce protective look which Goody was in his weakest moments so pathetically grateful for.

“I’m sorry, cher”

“Don’t be,” Billy said. “There are dry clothes in that bag,” he pointed at his own saddlebag. Goody walked over to it and pulled out the clothes, they weren’t clean but they were dry and they smelled of Billy as he pulled them on. Movements slow, his body stiff and unresponsive. Even though he had the easiest task he kept having to pause every time there was a flash of lightning, and get his mind back on mission. As such Billy finished with the horses first and was already spreading out a blanket on the straw in one of the empty stalls, a lit lantern next to it, and he looked up at Goody with something else in his eyes, something intense and possessive which had a good shiver go down Goody’s back.

“I’m concerned we’ll light our only shelter for the night on fire, so no cigarettes,” Billy said. Goody was going to protest, it had been one time and they’d put out the fire before it got out of hand; and it really was mostly Billy’s fault that time, how was Goody supposed to pay attention to if he put out the cigarette or not when Billy was swallowing him down like that?

Billy continued talking, “But there are other things I can do for you.”

Goody’s mind once more flashed back to the memory of Billy blowing him, but he for one thing didn’t think he’d be able to get it up this soon after the earlier incident; and two he didn’t think that was what Billy meant anyway.

“Cher, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Come here,” Billy said and Goody sat down on the blanket. Billy put his hands on him, and Goody let him push him down on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms.

“Wait here,” Billy said and went off to change clothes as well. Goody shivered a little being left alone, and he was starting to feel the cold of the barn again, but Billy returned soon enough putting his hands on Goody’s back he started to knead Goody’s tense muscles. He had been taut like a bowstring, the reminders of war, the cold, and the thunder making him tense but now Billy’s strong sure hands started to work it all out of him.

“Mmm, that feels good,” Goody murmured. Eyes closed and starting to feel relaxed and warmed up. Eventually he was even yawning. Billy’s hands chasing out the last of the cold and fear surrounding his heart. He rolled over onto his back and looked up at Billy, knowing full well that he must be as easy to read as a book.

“Thank you, mon cher.”

Blly smiled and brushed his fingers over Goody’s cheek.

“Do you think you can sleep?” Billy asked. And Goody nodded.

“If you lay down with me,” Goody said. Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Where else would I sleep?” He leaned down and pressed his lips against Goody’s in a brief kiss and Goody lifted his head chasing after him when he pulled back. Catching Billy’s bottom lip between his own lips and sucking. Billy leaned down again pressing Goody’s head down, deepening the kiss, taking more and Goody let him, opening up underneath Billy, opening up for Billy.

They were both panting slightly when they broke apart.

Billy got a second blanket and soon they were wrapped up tightly together on their sides, trading soft kisses and whispered words of love and affection. They would drift off to sleep like that, tangled together to fight off the cold.

In the past Goody had huddled together with his fellow soldiers to keep out the cold hard ground they slept on, but it had been a fitful sleep with very little rest and still so cold. This, what he had with Billy was something else entirely. The two of them wrapped up in love to keep out the cold, and the rest of the world. It was just the two of them in a cocoon of mutual affection and protection. Billy would fight tooth and nail to protect Goody, and Goody would do anything in his power to protect Billy.

_He would never heal, this was who he was now, but with Billy it became a little bit easier to get through the bad days. He was loved, despite it all, he was loved and he would hang on to that until he died._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompts of circus AU and first kiss

Billy Rocks was 17 when he ran away to join the circus, and it was all the fault of a blue eyed marksman with a crooked smile and a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. If it had been a book he supposed it would have been described as a whirlwind romance; full of strong passionate feelings; yearning and longing and all encompassing passion - whenever he was bored he’d borrow Teddy’s paperback romance novels; the kid kept claiming they were Emma’s but Billy had never seen the one half of the circus’ trapeze artists even so much as hold one of the books. Billy wasn’t as ashamed as Teddy, after all he couldn’t really judge having turned out to be a hopeless romantic himself after all.

It was a fact that had surprised himself as much as it would have surprised any of his former friends. But then it was hard to resist the charms of Goodnight Robicheaux. The man could hit any target with a rifle, at any distance; he could fire blindfolded or riding a horse - sitting backwards in the saddle at full gallop. However it was his sweet talking along with those eyes and that smile that really caught Billy’s attention once Goodnights whole laser focus had been directed at him. He had fallen fast and hard, inevitable as the sunset and other applicable similes.

They had kissed behind the big tent, in the dark of the evening, soft light coming out underneath the bottom of the tent canvas, and from the lanterns hanging a short distance away. It had been Billy’s first kiss, face cupped in Goodnight’s gentle but firm hands, calloused fingers stroking his cheekbones. Goodnight had sighed softly, helplessly into the kiss, and Billy had gripped Goodnight’s shirt in both hands, knees weak, and overwhelmed by emotions.

Rash and impulsive; and ruled by his young heart, Billy decided then and there to follow Goodnight to the ends of the earth. When the circus left town Billy left with it. Proving himself to be an equal to Goody but with a talent for knife throwing. They made a brilliant team, showing off with their skills, and teasing and bickering with each other in the ring; and outside the ring they rarely left each other’s side.

Growing older saw the impulsivity of his youth tempered, but his heart grew ever stronger and bigger with his love for Goodnight; and those blue eyes and crooked smile would always remind him of why he had made his choice; _and he never regretted it._


End file.
